


You Can Ring My Bell

by humannature_archivist



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-09
Updated: 2009-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-27 20:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6299029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humannature_archivist/pseuds/humannature_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Graham Norton pranks you AND he's combing the lonely hearts adverts in "Gloryhole" to do it, there will be repercussions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Ring My Bell

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Human Nature](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Human_Nature). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in January 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [Human Nature collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/humannature/profile).   
> \--  
> Is there such as thing as talk show episode tag crackfic? Well, there is now!

David fumbled for the phone with a curse. He’d finally made it back to the flat and collapsed into the overstuffed chair, still dressed from the Norton appearance. The grueling pace of the talk show circuit was finally catching up with him and he’d dozed off midway through his scotch and soda.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he answered.

“Hi!” said the energetic voice on the other end. “Is this David Tennant?”

David groaned. Fantastic. Another journalist had his number. Sophia would kill him for having to change it again.

“Yes, it is. With whom am I speaking?” His pleasant tone belying the grimace on his face.

“This is Derek. You know, from the advert?”

Bloody buggering fucking hell. He ran his fingers through his hair as his mind flittered through a dozen ways to handle the poor sod.

“Umm..hello, how are you?”

The voice on the other end chuckled. “Well, great now that I have you on the phone. I can’t believe it was really you! My mates are never going to believe it. They were really giving me the piss about the whole thing.”

Finishing off the remainder of his drink in a quick gulp, David coughed slightly.

“Yeah, well. I am sorry about that,” he said. “I had no idea Graham was going to pull that stunt and you know…” he trailed off awkwardly  
.  
“Yeah. Sure. I get it but I have to say I was really disappointed that it was all just a laugh, you know? I mean, you’re David Fucking Tennant! Doctor Who himself. You know…” Derek’s voice dropped to a whisper, “…I’ve wanked off more than once watching you. That tie, the coat, I mean..you’re bloody irresistible you are!”

David’s eyes widened in horror. That little fucker Norton was dead the next time he saw him.

“I..well..Derek..”

He gave up and grabbed the bottle of scotch from the drinks table and took a restorative swallow.

“Derek,” he continued, feeling the alcohol burn through his system. “I’m sorry you were led on but it was just a prank, yeah? Not a very nice one and I apologize for, ah, getting caught up in the moment. But it’s late and I have an early morning so I’m going to say goodbye now.”

“No! Wait!” The voice on the phone cried. “Don’t you think you owe me? I mean, I looked like a bloody fool in front of my mates. I may never live it down. My mother even called, wanting to know if it was me. Now me Dad is threatening to kick my arse saying the blokes at the pub are making his life miserable for having a poncy son. My life is hell because of your prank!”

The whine cut through the hollow thudding his head was making as he struck it repeatedly against the side table.

“Just what is it you expect me to do, Derek? Can I send you an autograph? Tickets to Jonathan Ross?”

He was grabbing at straws, desperate to end this phone call so he could ring his mobile service immediately. He might even give up the mobile altogether. Yes. That’s it. Give up the mobile and go on a nice long vacation. Somewhere sunny where he wouldn’t have to to shave and could wear a hat and never have to talk to crazy gay men with TARDIS fantasies ever again.

“…and if you could wear the costume that would be fantastic.”

Wait. David's attention snapped out of fantasy holiday mode and smack back into the grim reality. “What?! You want me to do what?”

“It would only be for a little while, an hour tops. You know, the club isn’t that far and you’d really make an entrance in that divine coat.”

The jangle of the doorbell was the only thing that prevented David from finishing off the dwindling bottle that he now cradled lovingly in his arms.

“My friends will go fucking mad!”

David practically ran to the front door, desperate for a diversion.

“Then they would know who had the bigger sonic screwdriver, you know what I mean?,” the voice continued as David yanked open the handle.

John stood outside, mobile to his ear grinning wildly. “Because size really does matter, doesn’t it?” John said, flipping the phone closed as he burst into laughter.

Rooted to the floor in shock, David couldn’t decide whether to hug the man in relief or hit him over the head with something large and heavy.

“Barrowman, you will pay for this,” he spat, grabbing the man by the lapels and pulling him inside.

“Oh, I have no doubt,” John said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “But I just couldn’t resist.”

He gave David a teasing grin. “And meant what I said about the coat. Why should Sophia have all the fun?”

Feeling an unwilling smile tug at his lips, David pulled him in for a punishing kiss.

“Ass.”

“Yes,” whispered John, his lips skating over David’s mouth, tasting the smoky alcohol. “I only have one more thing to say.”

“And what’s that?” David growled, nipping at his neck.

John pulled away with a grin.

“Take me Time Lord!”

Groaning, David dropped his head.

“Why didn’t I take that role on “Life on Mars”? You know Simms never gets this sort of grief. I’m calling my travel agent in the morning…hats and sunblock, that’s the the ticket…”

John laughed as he grabbed David's hips, pulling him in close.

“David?”

“Hmmmm,” he replied, momentarily distracted from his escape fantasy.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

So he did.


End file.
